Hey guys...been a few years hasn't it? This is obviously very different from what I used to write, but the writing quality still sucks just as much x3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to JK Rowling.

A/N: Feel free to ask lots of questions. I'll end up going through this and edit it some more and if anyone could point out flaws or things that need to be explained, please let me know.

Chapter 1

Listening to the grandfather clock chime downstairs in Number Four, Harry gave a sad smile as he looked out of his bedroom window with disappointment. Officially, he was now fifteen and there had been no news from his friends all summer. In all honesty it was his own fault for allowing himself to become depressed once more. He had let himself think that maybe, just maybe, he would get something on his birthday, but his hopes slowly died as midnight had come.

"Happy birthday, Harry," he told himself, finally sitting down on his bed and kicking off his shoes, "And may you have another happy day."

But he knew that he wouldn't. Ever since he had come home for the summer, he had kept on alert, learning everything he could about what was happening in the outside world in both the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, but no news of Voldemort had appeared. He supposed that he should be thankful, since it did mean that the war would be delayed a bit longer, but it also caused his stomach to have permanent flutters.

Shuddering with fear, though he would never admit it, Harry brought his legs up and slid under the covers, still fully clothed in hopes of warding off unwanted memories of the graveyard and Voldemort.

The idea of Voldemort sent another shiver down Harry's spine as he tightly shut his eyes and let out a soft moan of despair. It was his entire fault that the crazed man was revived, and he could do nothing to stop the man. Dumbledore had reassured Harry that he would find a way to stop Voldemort, but that honestly just made Harry more terrified. Just because he was the Boy-Who-Lived didn't mean that he wasn't afraid. Actually, it seemed to him that everyone thought he wasn't one to feel fear, though he had no clue why they would think so.

His fear of Voldemort only seemed to intensify now that it was his birthday. In fact, it was almost as if he were trying to tell himself something concerning the two subjects. Suddenly unable to sit still, Harry got out of bed and made his way to his window, throwing it open and peered into the yard. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he backed away and went to the door, grudgingly glaring at the knob.

"Stupid Uncle Vernon," he muttered, "Rather lock me up then let me run away."

:: And why would we be running away, Harry? ::

Goosebumps erupted, blood ran cold, and hair stood on end and Harry recognized the subtle hiss of Pastletongue. Looking back toward the window his emerald eyes widened in fear as he saw his personal nightmare leaning calmly against his paper strewed desk.

:: What's wrong Harry? :: Voldemort hissed, a catlike grin forming, :: Did I come at a bad time? ::

Throat tight, his stomach fluttering to the point he felt sick, Harry leaned back against the door, unable to answer the man. Said man, if possible, seemed to smile more broadly as he pushed off the desk and slowly sauntered toward his immobile teenage enemy. Raising his left hand slowly, Voldemort hesitated near Harry's check before moving his hand to rest against the door. Harry shivered involuntarily as the tip of Voldemort's wand made itself known against his lower stomach.

Seeing the reaction, Voldemort hissed in pleasure, "Harry," he said in clear English, "You really should be more prepared. Didn't you know that I'd come for you?"

"How did you get in?" Harry finally was able to mutter after he moved his gaze down to the wand tip, "The wards were supposed to keep you out."

Voldemort laughed, not the high cold laugh, but a quite laugh, "Blood wards are funny things. They keep out all enemies but do nothing against those who share blood, be it through marriage or, what's the word, transfusion?"

Harry gulped as he felt the tip of Voldemort's wand travel up his abdomen slowly. Occasionally he could feel the man shoot sparks of magic against his thin shirt that seemed to travel to the core of his being. Eventually he felt the wand stop along his throat. Taking a deep breath he whispered, "You share my blood."

"Very good." Voldemort moved in closer, "And Dumbledore seems to think that these wards will still protect you." Harry shuddered as he felt Voldemort's breath against his ear, "Do you think the wards are working, Harry?"

He started to tremble, gaze now flashing to different spots in his tiny, cramped, room. Seeing the panic, Voldemort laughed again, this time a bit louder, before moving back from Harry, amusement dancing in his eyes, his hand still against the door, "Come now, show me that bravery you displayed at the graveyard, sweet boy."

Disgusted by the odd title uttered by the repulsive man, Harry's body seemed finally ready to listen to reason. Hands moved upward and pushed against Voldemort's chest so that the man was forced, slowly mind you, away from him.

"If you want bravery, you'll have to find it somewhere else," he said in a soft voice, "I don't have anymore-" He stopped as the unmistakable bang of a door resounded throughout the house, quickly followed by a rush of footsteps. Spinning sharply to look at his door, Harry was unprepared as Voldemort's hand shot out and grabbed hold of him.

Harry had been ready for the pain that accompanied Voldemort's touch so to say he was surprised when he found that rather than screaming out in pain, his senses seemed to dull. The noise outside his room was a muffled sound and Harry felt as his eyes started to lower, almost as if he were being pulled in by sleep. Struggling, he gave his head a small shake to try and clear his mind only to find that it didn't help in the least. It actually only served to make his mind even more reluctant to function properly.

The hand that rested on his shoulder slowly tightened as it gently pulled his body toward the Dark Lord as Harry swayed dangerously on his feet, suddenly feeling sluggish and weaker than he had ever felt before. Forcing his eyes to focus, Harry's heart pounded painfully in his chest as he found himself in the one armed embrace of Voldemort who was still smiling down at him. Pushing weakly against the thin chest of his enemy, Harry gave a soft moan of irritation when Voldemort tightened his grip on his shoulder.

"What did you do?" Harry slurred, giving it his best to glare at the smug Dark Lord.

"I desired to see you helpless, and so you are."

Harry's eyes widened a fraction, "What does-"

His words were cut off as he slowly felt Voldemort's hold on him shift and his face was forceably buried into the man's chest. Flushing with embarrassment, Harry made a noise of protest before he felt warm breath against his ear.

::And now to hide you from Dumbledore, and his precious Order.::

Harry, even though his mind was succumbing to the odd spell upon him, couldn't help but acknowledge the undertone of emotion from the Dark Lords next words as the man gently tightened his hold on Harry's body.

::Especially since we can't have the old fool destroying my precious Horcrux.::

Ta da~ once again all reviews and critiques are most appreciated!